Deceiving Truths - Harry Potter Discontinued
by OwlofLittleFaith
Summary: Harry is abused by the Dursleys and ends up being sorted into Slytherin - a recipe for unexpected twists. Add an evil old coot, a not so dark Dark Lord, and a few determined personifications into the mix and things are bound to get out of hand. Things especially take a turn when the Malfoy family get involved. NO SLASH. ALSO CONTAINS OC. AU.
1. NOTE

Key:

"..." - Speech

'...' - Thoughts

~...~ - Parseltongue

Story Notes:

I do not own Harry Potter and its characters - nor do I own Hetalia and its characters. All I own is my OC and the plot.

I have featured my OC in this fic for no other reason but to spice up the story.

Also, this is also a Pottertalia crossover but the Hetalia side of things mainly comes attached to my OC.

If, by any chance, you wish to see any Hetalia characters in this story, you might just find that your wish will be fulfilled.

The Hetalia characters are not the main focus of this story but they will be present.

Story Warnings:

Mature themes may be present in this story.

There are mentions and implications of past rape and abuse.


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter Notes:_

_This chapter is mainly focused on Tempest (my OC)'s perspective of things. This chapter is mainly focused on Tempest (my OC)'s perspective of things. __I've decided to make her loyalties clear from the beginning so that nothing of what she may do or think will confuse you too much. __This chapter isn't all that exciting, but it also puts an interesting spin on Voldemort as a character._

_On an unrelated topic, my reasoning for putting these notes at the top of the chapter is that these author notes are meant to serve as a warning for the chapter to come. It may spoil a few things, but the things that are spoiled most likely won't make sense until you actually read the chapter._

–––

Tempest Williams, a woman of many strengths and great power, gazed blankly at the brats shuffling into the Great Hall. Beside her to her right, sitting quite proudly, was Minerva McGonagall - Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The woman was infuriating, as all Gryffindors tended to be.

Tempest wasn't sure as to what she should expect throughout the next seven years. Harry blasted Potter was starting his Wizarding education today. How wonderful, another brat to torment her with useless questions. Not to mention the arrogance the boy was sure to possess– being the Boy-Who-Lived and all.

A quick glance to her left told her that a certain Severus Snape was glaring especially hard at anyone who dared look at him today. 'He must be having similar thoughts as my own,' She mused to herself silently. Potter Sr. had been an ignorant, arrogant brat - so clearly Potter Jr. would follow in his footsteps.

James Potter had always been a fool, had always been naive and careless. Perhaps this was why he had once called Tempest a friend, an ally. It wasn't all that surprising, she reminded herself. Tempest had acted the part of the kind professor, the gentle friend quite well. It was how she avoided getting caught fulfilling her schemes.

How foolish it was of her to accept the role of the Potter spawn's godmother. It brought along obligations that would make her role as Voldemort's follower much more difficult - but all the more opportunities to please the man.

Of course, being the centuries old being she was, would not call the Dark Wizard her master, her lord when he was not around to listen. Her pride would not allow it. No, she was no one's servant. She was the great Personification of North America! She was simply an active supporter of the cause!

"The Potter spawn approaches, it appears." Severus' voice is low but is still clear. I nod, eyes watching the stool, gaze unwavering. Tempest softened her gaze as the raven haired boy turns to look at her. His eyes, a bright green, were dull for the most part - the only life in them being a dim twinkle of wonder, curiosity.

Forcing a smile to grace her lips, Tempest nodded her head graciously at the boy, encouraging him to take his place on the stool. Privately, the nation wondered what house he'd be best suited for. She, admittedly, did not know the boy in the slightest - but if he was anything like his foolish father, Gryffindor would be a likely option.

The sorting hat mumbled quietly as it debated his choice. Students were whispering from their tables eagerly, all of them hoping to have the brat in their house. The Hufflepuffs seemed a bit resigned, already convinced that the boy was not destined to be one of them.

Tempest was amused by this greatly. Oh how she loved seeing the looks of resignation, of defeat. It brought her back centuries to the time where she had been a pirate, sailing the seas and reeking havoc on anyone who dare crossed her path.

That time frame, of course, could have been considered as her rebellious faze, she supposed. Nowadays she was much more refined, more respectable and polite. She now held herself with maturity, pride, and a sense of superiority.

Silence washed over the hall as the sorting hat went silent, supposedly debating on which house to choose. Tempest didn't need to use Legilimency to figure out that everyone expected the boy to be a Gryffindor, just as she, herself, did.

It would make the boy so normal to be in Gryffindor. If he was in Gryffindor she'd be able ignore the brat completely, like she did with the other Gryffindors. If she ignored the brat his presence wouldn't annoy her so much.

Although Tempest wasn't currently a Head of House, she used to be. Head of Slytherin to be exact. In fact, the only reason she gave up the position was because that senile old– Dumbledore pulled rank on her. Not politically of course, no, he would stand no chance in that field. He had used the old rules assigned by the Ministry to insist that as Headmaster, it was his duty to make sure that house heads were suitable.

Tempest had thrown a fit in private about that one. How dare the old coot try to rip her precious little snakes away from her? She was forced to comply in the end. The bastard had attempted to use the imperius curse to make her sign the position off to someone else—Severus Snape, and she was forced to act the part.

She brought her attention back to the Potter brat just as the hat shouted out the results of his findings. "SLYTHERIN!" To say she was shocked was something she'd never do, but she could not for the life of her stop the widening of her eyes. Quickly occluding her emotions, the woman mechanically clapped, setting off a chain reaction from the Slytherin table.

A smirk played on her lips as she took a glance at Dumbledore. His eyes were wide. Within his eyes; something akin to confusion– and was that anger? Odd. She waited semi patiently until the last child was sorted. The only upside to the sorting was the welcoming feast that followed. While the food wasn't the best she had tasted– and sometimes it was even tampered with by students– it was still fairly good.

Of course, she wouldn't stuff her face like a pathetic Gryffindor would, that was disgusting to even think about. No, she'd eat with the manners of a respectable lord. Because here in the Wizarding World, she was just that, a lord– or well, lady she supposed.

Dumbledore's speech passed by quickly and so did the feast. Tempest was thankful for this, as she entered her quarters for the first time since the students had arrived. Classes would begin on Monday and she was not looking forward to seeing all of those brats again– but alas, someone had to keep an eye on Dumbledore and his antics.

Her eyes scanned over her book shelves. Her more favourable books were hidden away of course - she wouldn't want anyone who dared to snoop around her quarters to find them. The books she was hiding weren't particularly legal and she did not wish for a short trip to Azkaban– even if she would have gotten out of it after a few days due to her many connections.

Dumbledore would do anything to get her nose out of his business, Tempest didn't doubt that in the slightest. The more information she knew, the more she could foil him and his vile plans for the Boy-Who-Lived.

Make no mistake, she despised the little brat. That would never change, her cold and icy heart would never allow for that to happen. But no child should be used as a mere weapon. One that could be disposed of at the old coot's will. She just couldn't sit and watch it happen.

The boy may have supposedly killed her apprentice, Voldemort - aka Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr., but he didn't deserve that much pressure. A life like that would be meaningless, depressing.

Tempest brought a finger to her chin - something she did when debating with herself. Perhaps she could recruit Potter, get him to join the Dark side of the war's cause. That would make it so much easier and would help Tom in the long run. Yes, that was precisely what she would do. Now that he had been sorted into Slytherin, that might just make everything a bit easier for her.

Oh, and yes. Tempest was, and is if her suspicions were correct, the mentor of the most feared wizard in Britain. She had taught him everything she knew when he was but a young teenager. The boy was brilliant - one of her most favourite students to teach. If it wasn't for Dumbledore and his meddling, he would probably have been a well respected, political genius.

Leave it to the old fool to ruin the future the boy could have had. Despite Dumbledore's meddling and manipulation, Tempest had stood by the boy, helped him when he was at his lowest - eased him back to sanity if he became too paranoid. Sadly, that damned Hallow's Eve had become unavoidable after Dumbledore had practically fed us that prophesy.

Tom had become inconsolable, too paranoid. No one, not even her, could get through to him - and when Pettigrew revealed the location of the Potters, well, we all know how that went.

Tempest was absolutely positive that her apprentice was not gone forever, that he had not truly died that night. She could feel him, his magic– even if just faintly, nearby. Or perhaps that feelings was only longing, a wish. That boy had wormed his way quite deep into her heart. He was almost like a son to her, and she dearly wished to see him again.

The sound of the flop was the sound to break her out of her thoughts. She watched as the violent green flames licked dangerously close to the floor before retracting, revealing the old coot himself.

"Albus," Tempest greeted with a polite nod, "What has brought you to my quarters? Perhaps you'd like some tea?" It took a great deal of her willpower not to scowl at the man before her.

"Ah, why yes, My Dear. Tea would be lovely," She didn't like the way his eyes twinkled, didn't like how he smiled at her. She withheld a snort, now _she _was being the paranoid one. Well, Tom had to get it from someone, she supposed. "And as for your first question… I have some concerns regarding Mister Potter."

Ah, so this is what he wanted. Honestly, she wanted to slap herself for not expecting this interaction. She was getting to be as foolish as a Gryffindor at this rate. Hm, she really did have a bad habit of insulting the lions of the school, didn't she?

"Do not waste my time, Albus, I still have classes to prepare for." Her eyes narrowed as he took a good look around my room, at my bookshelves, and the cupboards in which I had important things locked away. I can't help but to sneer. "Get on with it, will you?

His eyes twinkled as he meets woman's sharp gaze. Tempest replaced her sneer with an impatient smile - one she reserved specifically for Albus and his habit of taking his dear old time with sharing his 'worries'. It was without a doubt to be about the boy's sorting, that much was blatantly obvious.

Tapping her foot rhythmically, trying to occlude her emotions so that she wouldn't be tempted to hex the Headmaster without direct reason. The old man sauntered into the sitting room uninvited, as per usual. These visits were never pleasant for a reason, after all.

It didn't take her long to have the tea prepared and set out in front of them. It would have been quicker had she summoned a house elf, but she had wanted to stall so she had prepared the beverage herself. It was only delaying the inevitable, of course, so here she was sitting across from Albus sipping on her tea.

"I feel like there has been a mistake with the boy's sorting, Tempest." No surprise there - but whether his so called beliefs were accurate or not was anyone's guess. "I may have to petition for a resort if that's true, would you sign it? Surely with your backing–"

Tempest's temper flared for a brief moment before she cut the man off, voice calmer than she actually was. "No. It hasn't been a day, for Merlin's sake. Besides, you haven't even properly met the boy yet. Give him a chance to adjust to his house. Understood, Headmaster?" She may not like the brat, but it would not do to have the boy resorted without concrete reasoning.

Whether he understood it or not didn't matter. His petition wouldn't go through without proper evidence anyway. For a brief second, and Tempest wasn't even sure if it really happened, Albus' eyes lost their twinkle. Not in a sad, regretful way, but in a way influenced by anger. She had pushed his buttons - and that thought almost brought a genuine smile to her lips.


	3. Chapter 2

_Chapter Notes:_

_I'm not particularly happy_ _with how I've written Snape - partially because I wanted to make him sound like his typical Snapey self, but I just can't make him snarky enough. I've decided that it's best to write him in a way that feels natural so I do apologize if he seems a bit OOC._

_Furthermore, I am aware that in this chapter overreacts to Snape's words - at least in my opinion. When writing it I decided to put myself into his shoes and think about how I would react in that type of situation. _

_Also, I'd like some feedback on Draco. Should he be brattier? Should I keep him as he is? I want Draco and Harry to have a good friendship so I can't make him too snobbish, but it wouldn't hurt to crank it up a bit, I suppose._

–––

Harry Potter was a small child. Smaller than any eleven year old should be, in fact. Because of this - and also due to his scar and supposed fame - he had received many odd stares from his housemates ever since he had been sorted. Harry didn't notice these stares, as he had taken to staring down at his lap as the rest of the sorting passed by.

Then the feast came. The boy was amazed at first, staring in wonder as the food magically appeared in front of him from seemingly nowhere. He had received a few odd looks after that, like he wasn't supposed to be amazed at such a thing - as if it was perfectly normal. That had dampened his mood once again, so he went back to staring at his lap.

He didn't eat anything that night, he had felt sick at the sight of all of the food. The Dursley's rules were also drilled into his mind. Freaks didn't deserve food, they'd tell him. He shouldn't even be sitting at the table, but he really didn't want to stand out anymore than he already did. He'd take the punishment when it came.

Sitting next to him was a boy with nearly-white blond hair and sparkling grey eyes. Draco Malfoy. Harry had met him on the train. Draco, although a bit stuck up, was a decent person in Harry's opinion so the two had become semi-friends.

Harry wouldn't call him a real friend yet - as the two had barely any time to talk much about themselves. Draco's friends had entered the compartment they were sharing and had immediately distracted the blond with conversation after conversation. They had barely acknowledged Harry so he had stayed quiet.

"I can't wait for potions," Draco stated making Harry look at him. "Father says I'll be great at it. He even got me some of the best tutors to prepare for it!" Confidence radiated off of the blond, and Harry wished he could have some of it. "Interested in any of the offered classes, Potter?"

Harry sent him a shy smile and nodded. Harry had - before they were ripped away from him - looked over some of his course books and had an idea of what the courses for this year would be about. "I think Defence Against the Dark Arts may be interesting, but other than that I'm not quite sure."

Draco nodded, casting a quick glance to the staff table. "Father says that it was an okay class when he went here, but the professors never last longer than a year. Plus, I heard him saying that the professor is a bit of a joke this year." He explains casually. Harry too glanced up at the staff table. "It's Quirrell this year - the one with the turban."

When Harry laid eyes on the man, his scar immediately began to hurt. He looked away quickly, smiling at Draco for a moment before returning his gaze to his lap. He couldn't wait for the feast to be over. All of the food was so tempting to taste - but he knew he'd be punished for eating it. He always was.

"Oh! And Professor Williams will also be teaching Defense! Father mentioned that Dumbledore insists on having two professors for that class just in case," The young Malfoy took notice of the lack of food on his plate and looked at his new friend in confusion. Deciding that Potter was just being shy about retrieving food, he took it upon himself to scoop some fruit onto his plate.

Harry looked up quickly at his plate and saw the fruit Draco had served him. The blond was watching him carefully, eyes glancing towards the food every few seconds, encouraging him to eat. Harry didn't want to appear rude - because surely he'd be punished for that too - so he began to slowly nibble on an apple slice to appease him.

Soon enough the feast was over and the Slytherins were being filed out of the great hall in an orderly fashion by the Prefects. When they had finally gotten down to their common room in the dungeons all Harry wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. He was already rocking sleepily on his feet.

This was his first night away from his relatives, and hopefully the first night he will of had an adequate rest. Back on Privet Drive, his injuries would typically keep him wide awake throughout the night. There was rarely a night where this didn't happen and those long nights really exhausted him.

Unfortunately, his Head of House seemed to have other ideas as the batlike man began rattling off his rules and expectations. Harry was too tired to process his words - something about house unity, he sleepily acknowledged. The Prefects had organized their fellow Slytherins into orderly rows.

First years were made to sit at the front, second years kneeling in the second roll, and the third to seventh years standing in the back making up the other five rows. Harry really didn't see the point in such a set up, but went along with in fear of getting punished for disagreeing.

Beside him sat Draco again - the blond had deemed Harry as one of his best friends during their short time of knowing each other. Harry didn't say anything about it, content with the fact that he had someone to call his friend. He hadn't ever had friends back on Privet Drive, Dudley had always scared kids his age off.

To his left sat a boy named Blaise Zabini. Blaise had been moderately friendly with him, a little arrogant but at least he didn't seem to particularly hate Harry. Although, Harry hadn't spoken to the boy enough to get a proper impression.

Standing before the Slytherins was Professor Severus Snape. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about the man, but he was awfully scary. Harry had noted that the man's sneer would intensify whenever he met his gaze. Perhaps he did something to insult the man? Either way it put a damper on his mood.

"Are you listening, Potter?" Harry tensed as his Head of House addressed him. He could hear the hatred in his voice. "Foolish boy - detention for your ignorance. Perhaps that will teach you how to use that deplorable brain of yours." Harry had honestly heard worse. The insult wasn't nearly as bad as the verbal abuse he received from the Dursleys - yet his lip still quivered slightly.

He would not cry. He wasn't a baby, he was a freak - and freaks didn't deserve to cry. Freaks didn't deserve anything. They didn't deserve hugs. They didn't deserve love. Harry thought himself a fool for thinking that things would be better here. He had hoped that the teachers here wouldn't automatically hate him for merely existing, but the hope spent on such a fantasy was wasted.

Perhaps it was the years of physical and emotional abuse that caused such a reaction, perhaps it was the relief that the man had merely called him stupid rather than what he was normally called by his relatives. Or, Harry considered, perhaps it was the lack of sleep making him more emotional over a petty comment than anything else.

In the end the cause didn't particularly matter. The professor was being unfair and it was upsetting him. Harry was being childish for being upset over it, of course, but Professor Snape clearly wouldn't care for his feelings. Suddenly, Hogwarts didn't feel all that magical - even if it _was _a school for magic. It became clear to him that this was just another prison. A much larger one than his cupboard, but a prison nonetheless.

Draco nudged him slightly, bringing him back to reality and out of his dwellings. The blond looked at him with concern, but the dark haired boy only smiled at his new friend weakly and shook his head. Draco didn't need to know about his dwellings, they were too… personal.

"I have many expectations for the house of Slytherin, and foolishness is not one of them. I will not tolerate disrespect, or disregard for the rules that I have placed upon all of you." Snape's silky voice carried through the silent room effortlessly. Harry would even call it soothing if it hadn't been apparent that the professor hated him.

"To begin, you will all be expected to be out of bed by seven o'clock each morning - no exceptions. You shall not get out of bed until at least six-thirty o'clock - no exceptions for that as well." So far the rules were simple, of course, these were just the basic rules. The professor hadn't gotten to the more troubling ones that were bound to exist.

"You will be expected to be in the Great Hall by no later than eight o'clock for breakfast. You will eat like respectable young men or there will be consequences." Harry thought back to the way Dudley ate and determined that he should do the exact opposite of his cousin's eating ministrations. "I normally leave these rules for the Prefects to explain - I'll have you know - but I have reason to believe there are a few students here that will do well to hear them from myself."

He was obviously referring to Harry, and Harry was well aware of it. "There will be no sleeping throughout the day. I shall not tolerate any disturbances throughout the night caused by students that cannot fall asleep." That rule did sound reasonable to Harry - in fact they all did so far.

"To add to that last rule, there will be no roaming the halls after curfew. You have a curfew for a reason. The curfew for first years is nine o'clock. Prefects will - and _should_–" Snape eyed the female prefect for a moment, "–make an effort to enforce this rule. The curfew for the rest of the years will remain at ten o'clock."

Groans of protest echoed throughout the otherwise quiet room from the sixth and seventh years. A quick glare from Snape shut them up immediately. "You will be expected to follow any and all rules your other professors lay out for you. With all of that being said, I will leave the remaining rules for your prefects to explain." With that the professor turned around in a swift and practised motion, his robes billowing behind him as he left through the portrait.

The rest of the evening went by in a bit of a blur for Harry. Draco had helped him stay awake for the most part, not wanting his friend to get into any more trouble with his godfather for being tired. The blond didn't think that the detention Harry would have to deserve was fair - but what was he going to do? Telling his father wouldn't always solve problems like these.

Harry couldn't - although he did try - manage to pay any attention to the Slytherin prefects as they rattled on and on about the more complex rules of the school. Harry would ask Draco about them later but right now all he wanted to do was sleep. Soon enough the first years were sent off to bed, making him feel relieved. Finally he could get a full night's sleep.

–––

Harry, unfortunately, did not get a full night's sleep. When his head first touched the pillow that night the feeling g of sleeping in an actual bed was too strange, too foreign for him to get comfortable. He had tossed and turned, trying to ignore the growing anxiety that the little nagging voice in his head was causing. The voice sounded very similar to his uncle, he would realize had he not been so tired.

His eyes watered as another our passed by. He could not sleep in this bed, but he didn't want to sleep in a cupboard either. People would stare at him even more if he slept anywhere else except a bed. This internal battle went on for another hour until his body finally settled and his eyes drifted shut. The boy had fallen asleep at last.

This peace only lasted until three o'clock in the morning. Harry shot up, sweat coating his forehead and his body trembling. His emerald eyes glanced anxiously at the closed curtains located around the small area around his bed and dresser. A quiet whimper that was barely even audible escaped his lips as his nightmare replayed over and over again in his mind.

The nightmare was more of a memory than anything else. It was of the worst punishment he had ever received from his uncle– a punishment that his uncle from then on thought was best to enforce when his aunt and cousin weren't at home. Harry didn't want to think about any of that right now, though. He didn't want to think about what had happened in the dream or what his uncle had done.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Notes:**

_So this chapter makes light of Snape's internal struggle to ignore how alike Harry's and Lily's eyes are. It also shines a light on how he feels like he has a duty to protect his precious snakes - which he technically does - despite who they are and his opinion on them._

_As you will see, Snape finds himself switching back and forth between being gentle with the boy and being his typical Snapey self towards him. Also, I do realize that Snape appears to be a bit indecise with how he views the situation. I feel like this may be a bit confusing to read, but I want to make Snape's struggle between his duties and his suspicions known._

_On another note, Snape appears to be the type to hate being disturbed throughout the night, so I feel his extra impatience is rather warranted given the hour._

—

Severus Snape did not expect to be woken up at three in the morning by the monitoring charms he had placed on his First Years' dorms. Well, maybe he did - but he was still shocked regardless. Children rarely got worked up enough to set off his precautions. This was because he refused to be woken up throughout the night by a mere sniffle or minor disturbance.

Deciding that stalling wouldn't prevent him from abiding by his better judgement, Severus was quick to dress himself in presentable robes before making his way to his distressed Slytherin. He sneered as he entered the boys' dorms, honing in on the sound of muffled sobbing.

It didn't take long to find the child that managed to wake him, and the identity of this child made his jaw clench. Harry Potter, the boy who was supposed to be Gryffindor's Golden Boy, was curled up at the very edge of his bed sobbing quietly into a pillow while mumbling nonsense to no one in particular.

Severus' scowl turned more severe as he examined the trembling boy. Of all people to wake him up, it had to be the attention-seeking Potter brat. He considered turning away and just leaving the boy to suffer on his own but a flash of emerald stopped him.

Those were Lily's eyes - the same eyes that had drawn him in when he was a child. The same eyes that haunted his dreams at night. The boy was a carbon copy of James Potter in every way except his eyes - and now Harry's unseeing eyes threatened to draw him in just like Lily's had.

"'m sorry," The brat mumbled quietly, tearful eyes glassy and unfocused. Severus used all of his willpower to push aside his disdain for anything James Potter. He had a job to do. Helping his little snakes was his duty - whether he disliked them or not. "Won't do it again, 'm sorry…" The boy continued to mumble.

It took a minute for Severus to realize that the boy was in another place mentally. If he was here, in this room in his mind, the boy would have at least recognized that his professor and Head of House was standing before him. The boy, although they had made eye contact could not see him. The boy was too wrapped up with whatever was inside his head to pay attention to anything outside of it.

"Calm, child, do you know where you are?" Severus had done this many times for his younger and older snakes, but doing it for Potter felt odd, unnatural. He did not receive a response from the boy so he gently placed a hand on his shoulder - casting a silencing spell around the curtained area just in case.

Potter's constant stream of apologies and promises to "do better" increased in volume from the moment the professor's hand made contact with his shoulder. Severus decided to take another approach. Reluctantly grasping the boy's hand with great care, he began to rub circles on the palm of the small hand with his thumb.

"You're in Hogwarts, Harry," The use of the boy's named brought out an obvious reaction from him. The green eyes he had had a peek of earlier made direct contact with Severus' dark ones. "Whatever is troubling you is of no threat. You shall be fine, child." His silky voice came out gentle, calm, free of any malice or hatred.

Potter whimpered again, shifting closer to Severus slightly - realizing how close to the edge of the bed he was, the Potions Master convinced himself. It took him a moment to remind himself who this child was and why he didn't deserve the gentleness being used on him. The professor retracted his hand as if he had been burned.

What was he doing? What had possessed him to comfort the arrogant spawn of James Potter? The brat was probably faking for attention! The small, insignificant voice in his head reminded him that the boy couldn't possibly faking the fear shining through his expressive eyes.

"Now that you've stopped your incoherent babbling," Severus began coolly, ignoring the pathetic voice that constantly tried to force-feed him morals. "I wish to be informed of why you think it wise to make such a scene over what? A foolish nightmare?" The boy's eyes widened and his breath seemed to catch in his throat. A dim spark of guilt appeared inside Severus' mind when he saw this.

The child was obviously scared out of his wits from whatever he had dreamt. He supposed he shouldn't have been so harsh about it, but the Slytherin inside him refused to verbally acknowledge that he had made a mistake. The boy had woken him up and this was the consequence of it. Severus was not a patient man in the mornings and was rarely one in the afternoons. In fact, he was never a patient man - but especially not at three in the bloody morning.

"Well, Potter? I'd rather not be kept awake at this ungodly hour for longer than I must." The child still didn't respond, still frozen in fear. The professor sneered his most intimidating sneer, "Answer me, boy!"

This command got a reaction out of the child, but not one that Severus had been expecting. He had only encouraged the boy to answer his question, but instead of doing so the boy rolled off the edge of the bed and scrambled underneath the bed. The boy whimpered and the sound of quiet sobbing started up again.

'I am not cut out for this,' Severus realized. He could not simply leave the boy in this state - Poppy would have his head if he did that to the precious Potter brat - but he also didn't want to be awake this early in the morning if all the brat was going to do was cry. Crouching down so that he could see the cowering child, he cursed himself for not thinking to bring a calming draught.

His snakes often woke up from horrid nightmares and when it was bad enough for the wards to alert him of the child's distress, calming draughts were usually the first thing he grabbed before attempting to help said child. If only he had thought before he had rushed off to help the brat - then he would have been back in bed by now.

"Enough of this foolishness Potter–" Once again, Severus ignored the small part of him that pitied the boy. "–I will not tolerate such cowardice. Come out from under there and I shall consider retrieving a calming draught to ease your worries." He said this more gently than he had meant to and winced when he realized it.

"S-Sorry Professor," The apology was almost inaudible, but Severus wasn't known as the Bat-of-the-Dungeons without reason. "Didn't mean to wake you…" The boy seemed to be in his right mind now– even if he was yet to emerge from underneath the bed. Severus scowled at the pitiful apology.

Severus' scowl turned menacing as realization dawned on him completely. This was probably all an act to gain pity. Well it wasn't going to work on him, perhaps it would on that foolish Gryffindor, Minerva, but not him. Eyes narrowing, the Head of House stood abruptly, turning towards the door with the intention to leave the boy to wallop in his supposed fear.

Harry Potter had almost fooled him, but he had realized his mistake just as the boy seemed to snap out of it. He would have to warn Tempest of this behaviour at breakfast - he wouldn't want one of his dearest friends lured into the trap of the arrogant eleven-year-old.

"Stop this foolishness immediately. I will not tolerate you wasting my time. You will not receive pity from me so I suggest you cut the act at once. I shall be leaving now, do not bother me again." Clear and cold, the best way to deal with insolent brats like Potter. He suddenly couldn't wait to torture the boy in class.

–––

Harry didn't understand what he had done wrong or how he had offended his professor in the slightest. Did the man think he was faking it to get attention? He'd never do that! The professor had spoken so softly to him at first, had made him feel safe if only for a moment whether he had showed it or not. Why had the man tried to comfort him if he was only going to accuse him of deceit in the end?

Harry didn't like not understanding things. It made him anxious, paranoid. Lack of understanding had gotten him in so much trouble at the Dursleys, caused him to be disappointed and let down too many times to count.

Hesitantly, he crawled out from under the bed to grab a pillow. He refused to sleep on the bed again, not after the nightmare that came as a result of tonight - or would it be last night? Eh, Harry was too tired to care.

Situating himself against the wall underneath the bed, Harry cuddled into his pillow, arms wound tightly around it as if someone was going to rip it away from him at any second. The small space gaze him comfort, reminded him of his nice and safe cupboard - a sanctuary he had grown accustomed to back with his relatives.

His eyes fluttered shut as he shoved the memory the nightmare had brought out back into its box. It was overflowing with memories at this point but as long as they stayed there he wouldn't have to worry about them. He laid there silently, focusing on the fact that he had made his first ever friend the night before. This thought eased him back into a feeling of comfort.

When he fell asleep this time, he wasn't met with any dreams or memories, just darkness. Darkness he could live with. He had grown up in darkness since his cupboard had no light in it. It soothed him, made him feel safe. If he couldn't see anything he wouldn't have to worry about watching as his uncle approached him, nor would he be forced to watch Dudley open his mountain of Christmas and birthday presents from the doorway of his cupboard.

Harry woke up later in the morning feeling at peace. That was, until Draco poked his head through the curtain and scared the life out of him. Luckily, he had gotten out from underneath the bed a few minutes prior to Draco's intrusion, so no questions would be asked about that.

"Good, you're awake! Come on, get ready before Uncle Sev finds out you've slept in!" 'Uncle Sev'? Harry didn't want to question the way his friend referred to their Head of House. It wasn't his business, and asking questions always got him in trouble anyway. He was quick to push Draco out of his curtained off area and changed in record timing into his school robes. Classes didn't start until Monday but he didn't have anything else that looked presentable.

Opening the curtain, the raven haired boy found his friend waiting for him impatiently. Upon noticing Harry, Draco practically dragged him out of the dorms and into the common room so that the prefects could lead them to the Great Hall without anyone getting lost.

"Cutting it a little close, aren't you Potter?" Mocked Prefect Flint as he saw him step into the room. Harry lowered his gaze apologetically. He hadn't meant to sleep in, he had had a hard time getting to sleep last night and the nightmare hadn't helped him at all. "Well then, to the Great Hall we go!" With that the first years were led to the Great Hall without incident.

Breakfast was a quiet ordeal at the Slytherin table. The same for the Gryffindors could not be said as a certain Ron Weasley ranted and raved at the Gryffindor table. Harry had seen the boy send him hateful looks when the redhead entered the grand room and Harry could not understand what he had done to make the boy dislike him. He hadn't even spoken a word to him yet!

Ron wasn't the only one sending him hateful glares, of course. Snape was glaring at him from his seat at the staff table. He could feel the man's gaze burn holes into the side of his head. He didn't dare look towards the man, knowing that it wouldn't end well. Instead he continued to nibble on a plain piece of toast, trying to ignore how hurt he felt that wherever he went people would still hate him.

**P.S. This chapter was an absolute nightmare to publish. The document was bugging out on me and forced me to manually remove lines of coding for every single paragraph. There were other issues with the entire process, of course, but the issue I mentioned was the more annoying one.**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Notes:

**_To the Guest who reviewed: _**

_ Yes, I see where you're coming from. Of course, that's not to say that everyone cannot get involved in the story. Then there's the fact that you've misunderstood __because you've only read the first chapter and assumed __\- this story is not necessarily centred around this OC. It is centred around Severus and Harry, the OC is simply being used as a gateway to the Hetalia universe. If it so happens that you've actually gone along and continued reading to this point, I hope this gives you some insight. _

_ Also, if this story isn't your cup of tea, why generalize everyone else's taste in stories based on your own opinion? Everyone likes different things._

_(I do not intend to respond to all reviews, I just felt like I had to explain it to this person.)_

_—_

_ So in this chapter we skip to Monday where Harry gets his first taste at what his classes will be like. I (due to a bit of laziness, ngl) have decided that his class schedule will be a bit different from the original source material._

_ I will state this now to avoid confusion. I am not sure if this is the same as in canon - but Slytherins will have both Potions, Transfiguration, and Flying Class with the Gryffindors. Herbology and History of Magic with the Ravenclaws, and of course - Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and charms with the Hufflepuffs._

_ Remember, this is a fanfiction, I am loosely using canon-verse as a guide but not everything shall be the same. _

–––

Monday started off well enough for Harry. No one had bothered him, all in favour of preparing for the classes that would start that day. Despite this, Harry was anxious. What if he made a bad impression on the professors? What if they already hated him? Had his aunt and uncle warned them about his freakishness before term even started? Harry dreaded the moment when he'd have to enter a classroom.

His stomach clenched as he attempted to force down food at Draco's prompting. His friend had taken to watching him like a hawk at meal times - claiming that Harry wouldn't eat properly if he didn't. Harry couldn't deny his friend's assessment of him, because for the most part it was true.

It wasn't like Harry didn't like eating, he was just scared to without being ordered to. The last time he had taken food on his own accord he had earned himself a thrashing from both his uncle and cousin. It was because of that that he had spent his fourth birthday bleeding out in his cupboard, struggling to remain conscious in case his uncle came back to hurt him more.

After that he had never tried to be selfish again. A freak didn't deserve to want things, nor did a freak deserve to eat pleasant food that wasn't a moldy sandwich from the back of the fridge. That sandwich had been the largest meal he had ever had, he recalled.

"When do you think we'll have potions? I can't wait to show Snape that I'm not incompetent!" Draco exclaimed, happily biting into a piece of honey covered toast. Harry's stomach twisted at the thought of having to face the potions master again. Surely the man would be disappointed by his stupidity, would probably give him detention for it too. Speaking of detention - Snape had assigned his detention to be that night.

"Come on Draco, Snape hates everyone - he'll despise you just as much as he does everyone else!" Spouted a second year in a scolding tone - obviously feeling high and mighty because they were a year ahead of the blond. Harry decided that adding his opinion would be pointless, it wasn't like anyone would want to listen to what he thought anyway - not that he had much of an opinion to give.

Ten minutes before breakfast ended, Snape started handing out the schedules. The man had made sure Harry was the last to receive his, making certain that the boy would be late for class. Said boy eyed his schedule with despair.

There was no way he'd be able to get to Transfiguration in such a short amount of time! Surely his Head of House would understand that - but no! Snape just had to hate him. Despite his frustration he did not cry, did not panic. Professor McGonagall would just have to deal with his tardiness, it wasn't like it was his fault Snape saved him for last!

Luckily, Draco had waited for him outside of the Great Hall - schedule clutched in his hands as he waited for his dark haired friend anxiously. Draco had heard about how strict McGonagall could be when it came to being late, his father had advised him to beware the woman's wrath.

The two first years bolted up several staircases until they reached the correct classroom. They were ten minutes late due to Harry running out of stamina going up one of the staircases. The minute they opened the door to the classroom eyes fell upon them.

Standing in the front of the room was the strict professor herself - eyebrows creased and a frown embedded onto her face. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy - I see you've decided to join us," The annoyance in her voice was clear as the sunny sky outside.

Harry stared down at his feet, mumbling apologies like his life depended on it. He didn't want to get punished for something he couldn't have prevented. It was bad enough that he had detention later that night - he didn't need another one on top of that! "Didn't have enough time to get here, Ma'am. 'm sorry," Was the apology McGonagall picked up on.

Motioning to two empty seats, the two being across the room from one another, the professor sighed. "I'll let it slide just this once, now take a seat so I we can move on with the lesson." Harry reluctantly took the seat closest to him - unfortunately, he ended up next to the redhead that had taken to glaring at him whenever they crossed paths.

Deciding that it would be best to introduce himself properly, Harry turned his head to look at the scowling boy. "I'm Harry, and you are?" The redhead glared at him arrogantly but opened his mouth to respond regardless.

"Ron Weasley," The boy introduced himself in a snotty tone, eyes narrowing at Harry. The boy's lips curved into a nasty sneer - which was nothing compared to Snape's, Harry concluded. "Now, what's a slimy snake like you, doing talking to me? Been here for only a few days and you're already whoring yourself around?"

Harry froze as the boy's vulgar, inappropriate words echoed inside his skull. Whoring himself around? Pinprick tears appeared in his eyes as he held in a whimper. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ron smirk - a cruel glint in his eyes.

"What's wrong, Potter?" The Weasley chuckled in amusement, "Did I hurt ickle Potty's feelings?" It was at this moment that McGonagall approached their table, a deep frown set on her aged face.

–––

Minerva McGonagall was known as a strict, sometimes hard-headed woman. Many have complained that she only saw what she wanted to see, but that simply wasn't true - at least in her own opinion. She valued her students' well-being over all else - even if the children got into more mischief than she'd like them to.

Minerva hadn't been happy when Harry Potter was sorted into the snake's den - she had thought that the hat had made a mistake - that someone had confundled it. Albus had agreed with her, sharing her worries. The Board of Governors would not allow a resort so early into the year so Albus had assured her that he'd find someone who would be willing to pull some strings.

When the aged man had returned unsuccessful, Minerva had promised herself that she wouldn't worry about it too much. Harry was now Severus' concern, not hers. She had her precious lions to focus on - not some troublesome Slytherin boy. She could only hope that Lily wouldn't start haunting her from casting her son aside.

The animagus was more than annoyed when the small boy appeared in her class late with Malfoy Jr. in tow. The boy was already causing trouble! A lot like James she had mused after she had calmed down. She had pushed all thoughts she had about he boy aside and began instructing her class, barely catching the look of hurt on Harry's face and the small tears that had formed.

She had frowned after making sure that what she saw wasn't a trick of the light, that she wasn't seeing things. What was the boy so upset about? He had only been sitting there for a few minutes - surely he didn't work himself up to gain sympathy? Then, as she drew nearer, she heard Ron Weasley mock the small boy. "Did I hurt ickle Potty's feelings?"

"And what do you think you are doing, Mr. Weasley, tormenting one of your classmates?" Minerva didn't know what was said to Harry to make him so upset as to cry, but knew that if it hurt the boy that much it had to be bad enough to dish out a punishment. Lily's spirit would never forgive her if she let her precious son suffer when it could be prevented.

"I'm not tormenting him, Professor! Honest! He's just being sensitive because he didn't understand a joke!" Minerva raised an eyebrow, catching on to the obvious lie with practised ease. "Right, Potter?" Harry shook his head negatively, but didn't speak. Well, Minerva thought to herself, at least the boy wasn't stupid enough to go along with the Weasley boy.

"Detention, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter, switch seats with Mr. Finnigan," She nodded to herself subtly, coming to the conclusion that the boy would get along better with Miss Granger. Perhaps the two would become friends which would prevent the boy from making many allies among the Slytherins. Yes, that was a brilliant idea.

The rest of the class went quite smoothly in Minerva's opinion. Despite her hopes, Harry and Hermione hadn't spoken to one another once but hopefully that would change with time. Yes, she would have to make a seating plan - that way the two would be forced to work together.

Alright, she admitted to herself, maybe she was going a bit too far. The boy could make friends with whoever he wanted - and if he was anything like his mother, he would not take well to be forced into a friendship by his professors. Even James had been like that, well, before he got his stuff together and matured enough in order to woo Lily. That thought brought a fond, barely noticeable smile to her face.

She could only imagine what the two Gryffindors would think of their precious son being a Slytherin - being sorted into the house of all things evil. James was probably rolling in his grave right now, and Lily? Well, she could only conclude that the spitfire of a woman would be happy as long as her son was happy.

Before Minerva knew it she was dismissing her class and going over her lesson plan for her sixth year Ravenclaws. Her mind kept drifting back to the small boy that was Harry and couldn't help but to realize that perhaps he was a bit too small. Perhaps it would do well to express her concerns to Severus, maybe get him to look into the matter.

Two knocks brought the animagus out of her thoughts. Standing in the doorway was Albus, sporting his usual and eccentric purple robes. Minerva welcomed him in, offering the man tea and biscuits.

"I know you have a class to teach and that they'll be here any minute now, but there is some urgent news I must discuss with you." Minerva noticed how the twinkle in the elder's eyes dimmed noticeably. Deciding that the information was more important than her class, she nodded solemnly.

"Of course, Albus. Allow me to floo Tempest and get her to take over my class." Minerva recalled how her colleague had mentioned an off period where she had no classes to teach. With the approval of Albus, Minerva hastily flood Tempest and explained what she wanted gone over in her absence.

Tempest didn't seem very pleased about her break being interrupted but did not voice her annoyance. At least she hadn't argued like she would have any other day, Minerva mused to herself as said woman stepped through the fireplace and cleaned her robes with a slight twitch of her finger.

"And remember! Keep an eye on the Weasley twins! They're trouble when left to their own devices!" With that Minerva stepped out of the classroom and joined Albus in her office. "Now, Albus, whatever seems to be the trouble?"

Albus released a sigh, straightening his posture to appear more polite. "I must admit that I do not feel that Mr. Potter belongs in Slytherin. I wish to petition for a resort but… it appears Tempest is against the idea." The man took a sip from his tea, eyes glancing around the room. "Without Tempest's influence, I fear that the petition won't go through."

Minerva nodded, admitting to herself that Tempest's position in the ministry would have guaranteed the boy's resorting. With her against it the likelihood of it being approved was next to nothing. The woman seemed too powerful at times, especially when she had Minister Fudge tightly wrapped around her finger.

"Perhaps you could convince her that it would be in the boy's best interest? The boy would be safer in Gryffindor - Slytherin is packed with the children of Death Eaters, and we can't afford to put the boy in anymore danger."

Before she could respond, a sharp voice cut through the middle of their conversation. "Oh yes, because Slytherins are the root of all evil." Tempest's words dripped with sarcasm, much like how poison would drip from a snake's fangs. "I do not appreciate the fact that you refuse to respect my view on this nonsense you call an issue,"

"I thought Minerva had just floo called you to fill in for her class this period? What made you stop by so suddenly?" Albus questioned making the woman in question scoff as if it were obvious.

"I heard my name come from your mouth. I wanted to ensure that you weren't planning anymore of your schemes," Albus didn't look impressed with this explanation but Tempest didn't seem to want to go into more detail.

Minerva eyed her colleague carefully, noticing the way the woman seemed to carry herself. Strong, elegant and poised - the perfect image of a Pureblood in all of her superior glory. The woman commanded respect with her mere presence alone and to have her against you - well, Minerva didn't want to think about the consequences of such a thing.

With this in mind, Minerva poured Tempest a cup of tea before levitating it to the far end of the table. "Do have a seat, Tempest - perhaps this is a discussion we need to think about clearly." The blonde nodded respectfully, taking a seat on a comfortable chair. Her narrowed eyes returned to a passive state as she sipped her tea - even if it was scalding hot.

Minerva eyed the headmaster for a moment, noticing how his twinkling blue eyes darkened even more. The elder didn't seem to like that his scheme had been found out before it could even be carried out. Yes, the animagus was well aware of the fact that it was a scheme to make Tempest comply without causing backlash. Tempest had many connections and could have his reputation dragged through the mud and then some with practised ease. She had witnessed it herself once when she was a young student.

In a way, Tempest inspired Minerva. The graceful woman had ways of knowing what most others didn't, could calm someone with the slightest of touches. As overpowered as she was, Tempest was someone to look up to. Even Minerva with all her Gryffindor pride would follow the woman without question, of that she was certain.

"Tell me, Albus…" Tempest's velvety voice was like fine silk, woven with the utmost care and delicacy. "...Why is it that whenever I disagree with you, you try to convert me to your way of thinking? Surely you know by now that such tactics shall not be successful?"

Minerva watched as the woman's purple sapphire eyes darkened noticeably in contempt. She rarely paid much attention to the woman's dislike for the headmaster, she never really saw reason to. It wasn't like anyone was obligated to respect him - despite all of the man's incredible accomplishments.

In all honesty, she never did understand to blonde and why she did what she did and thought what she thought. No one did. Tempest was a mystery to everyone and no one dared to look into it. She was a personal favourite to the students, and without a doubt had most of the young, hormonal teens wrapped around her finger. She was kind to them, nothing like the woman the staff knew her to be.

'Just as manipulative as Albus can be,' Minerva couldn't stop herself from thinking. Before she could justify these thoughts, Albus responded. "You seem to misunderstand my intentions, my dear. I do not wish to control you or convert you– as you say. I simply wish to do what is best,"

"You mean what you think is best." Tempest corrected immediately, eyes narrowing at the man once more. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to, Dumbledore. I am not blind to your intentions. Good day to you, Minerva - perhaps I'll join you for tea sometime tomorrow?" After Minerva nodded her approval, Tempest swept out of the room as if she was never there.

Minerva's brows furrowed in confusion. "That was… abrupt. I can't say I understand the implications of her accusations. Have you done something, Headmaster?" Albus only shrugged before taking his leave, leaving a confused Minerva behind to contemplate Tempest's words.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Notes:**

_Last chapter was a bit longer than intended and was a bit dragged out, I admit. I had a bit of trouble figuring out how to make the chapter remotely interesting since most of it is just filler._

_Also, do you find the amount of character dialogue I put in to be too much? Does it annoy you? Do forgive me if it does. I have more of a dialogue driven writing style and sometimes find it difficult to mix it up. However, I did try by adding a bit of information about my OC and her role within the Wizarding World._

_Speaking of my OC, I am aware that she seems to be a bit of a Mary Sue of sorts and this is intentional for the sake of the story. Don't worry though, she isn't invincible as she makes herself seem. She has her own weaknesses and character flaws that won't come to light until later on. Please be patient with her._

_One more thing - Snape may or may not be less of an asshole in this chapter. Hell, he might even have a heart by the looks of it._

_Hope you enjoy chapter 5~_

–––

Harry held his breath as he knocked anxiously on the door to Snape's office. He was fifteen minutes early for his detention, but he'd rather be early than late. He wasn't sure if his earliness would anger the professor - hence the anxiousness he felt. Maybe the man would find a reason to give him another detention for not coming directly on the dot? Harry hoped not.

A silky voice called out with a 'come in' and the small boy pushed the door open, fear building up inside his already queasy stomach. Sitting behind a large and organized desk was Professor Snape in all of his bat-like glory. His brow was raised while his mouth pulled into a sneer. His eyes were emotionless, Harry observed out of habit.

"Mr. Potter," The man sneered as he practically spat out his name, "I wasn't aware that I told you to arrive early. Thought you'd get a head start on your punishment, did you? Well I think not." Harry didn't get a chance to defend himself as the professor stood up abruptly and marched towards him. Harry flinched away from the man as a hand made its way towards his shoulder.

Eyes wide and panic written on his face, the boy scampered off to the corner farthest away from his Head of House. Would the man hit him like Uncle Vernon would? Harry didn't want to find out the answer to that question, not at all in fact. His body trembled as he realized that running away only ever made the beating worse.

–––

Severus didn't know what he had done to scare the boy. One moment he was attempting to direct the boy to a seat and the next said boy was trembling in a corner whispering apologies to anyone that would listen. His first thought was that the boy was feigning fear to get attention but quickly realized that the boy couldn't have asked for more attention - especially when it was only the two of them in the room.

That corner of his office had seen many children much like Potter in his days of being Head of Slytherin, but something about the way the boy hunched into himself and trembled made it seem that this case was a little - not by much - different. Much like the boy's first night, Severus found himself conflicted as to how he should perceive the situation.

He had two options, really. He could continue on hating the boy and believe everything the brat did was for attention, or he could look deeper into it and give into his urge to care for him. The latter was a more humane option - one that required patience and a caring heart. Severus had neither of those, or so he thought at least.

"Potter," Damn, his voice had gone soft again. "I know you must be scared, but I will not harm you, do you understand?" The boy didn't answer, only increased his amount of apologies per minute. A pang of concern washed over the potions master, not the feigned kind, but real, genuine concern. He had seen these signs of abuse many times before - just never so… well, obvious. The brat seemed to wear his emotions where anyone could see.

If this was a bid for attention, well, Severus would be sure to punish such behaviour - but for now he would try to be patient. It wouldn't do to neglect the boy if his fear was actually genuine and mocking him in such a state would be overly cruel. His eyes narrowed as he realized that he was allowing his morals to control him rather than his logic, but was it wise to treat the boy like he had treated him that first night?

No, no it was not. Severus may be a bit colder than most, and certainly not the most sensitive of men, but deep, deep down within the icy prison was a heart that cared more than he wanted it to. The potions master would never admit this to anyone, of course - that would lead to his reputation being shattered.

"Mr. Pot– Harry," The use of the boy's first name seemed to get some sort of reaction - much like a few nights ago. Approaching the boy slowly, like he was trying to get near to a frightened animal, he slowly reached out and placed his hands on the small boy's shoulders. "Can you look at me, child?" His voice softened to a tone not even he knew it could soften to.

"Plea– Please sir! I'll– I'll stop being a baby! Please! Just don't touch me!" The boy wailed suddenly, trying to twist away from the professors grip. Quickly, Severus acciod a calming draught knowing that the boy would only make himself sick if left as he was. Holding out the vial carefully to the cowering child, Severus prompted the boy to drink it.

"Drink this, child. It shall help you calm down," The boy hesitated before reaching his shaky hands towards the vial. Severus watched carefully as the boy timidly gulped down the liquid, noticing how his small body relaxed almost instantly. Tears were still streaming down his face but he was definitely in a better state for conversation.

Carefully, attempting to not scare the boy, Severus gently lead the boy to a cushioned chair– courtesy of Albus– and eased him into it. Pulling a chair from the side of the room over so that he could sit directly in front of Potter, he sat down as slowly as he could.

"Now that you've calmed down, I wish for you to explain to me what just happened. What made you so frightened? What action warranted that reaction?" Potter seemed to hesitate making the professor narrow his eyes at the ingrate. So he was just faking it for attention.

That train of thought came to an abrupt halt as the boy timidly responded. "'m sorry, sir. Just got really s-scared all of a sudden… didn't mean to be a bother…" It was mumbled but Severus heard him clearly. He didn't know what to do as the boy stared down at his shoes which were dangling because he was too short for the chair.

The boy in front of him was certainly no average eleven year old - and not because of what he had done as a baby. As much as Severus wanted to fool himself like he had before - as much as he wanted to tell himself that the boy was nothing but an attention seeking brat, he couldn't. A memory of himself flickered into his mind for a brief second before he shoved it back behind the barrier.

Taking a moment to scan the boy's appearance, Severus noticed that the boy's sleeve had been pushed up and spotted finger like bruises encasing his bony wrists. The boy seemed to notice too as he shoved his sleeve back down violently. The professor saw the boy's chest rise and fall a bit faster, a fresh wave of panic approaching despite the calming draught the boy previously drank.

"Mr. Potter," He made his voice as cold as he could given the situation - which wasn't all that cold at all. "I ask you to be calm while I ask you some questions. I cannot give you another calming draught until the other one completely wears off, alright?" Damnit! His voice went soft again. His reputation would be in shreds before the second day of classes if he kept this up!

"O-Okay, professor - I'll be calm," 'I'll try to, at least' was silently attached to the end, not needing to be spoken out loud. Severus hummed in response, offering the child a half filled cup of tea. Potter took it hesitantly, as if he were scared it was just a joke and he wasn't actually being offered it. Severus opted to ask about that too.

"Who gave you those bruises, Harry?" Severus felt the need to get straight to the point, not wanting to drag the silence out long enough for the boy to work himself up again. The boy had less of a reaction than he had expected, but still shrank back into his seat regardless.

"I– I fell sir… I'm really clumsy and– and–" The professor raised a hand to silence him, feeling the need to contradict the obvious lie.

"Those are fingerprints Harry, who did it? You cannot lie to me, so tell me the truth. Who has hurt you?" The boy bit his trembling lip as he, in Severus' perspective, weighed the price of telling the truth - something he had seen with a lot of abuse cases. "You are safe within the walls of Hogwarts, I will not allow you to be hurt again if you tell me." Perhaps that would help the boy open up.

"U-Uncle Vernon– he– he–" Severus refrained from scowling at the boy's stammering, instead focusing on the response he had gotten. Raising a hand to cut off the boy's rambling. Just as he pieced together what he should say to the child, three sharp knocks sounded from the door.

–––

Harry tensed up again as the door opened to reveal the woman from Defense - Professor Williams. He relaxed, if only slightly, as the woman softened her gaze towards him slightly like she had at the sorting and in the one class he had had with her so far.

"Forgive the intrusion, Severus, I wasn't aware that you were busy." The young boy relaxed as Snape's attention was drawn away from him for a short moment. Violet eyes meant prominent green ones as the woman inspected him carefully. "Hello, Mr. Potter. I don't believe we have properly met as of yet," Her lips shifted into a soft smile, eyes glimmering with what Harry thought was… fondness? No, that couldn't be right.

The professor was correct of course. Professor Quirrel was scheduled to teach Defence with the first years this week, so Professor Williams had not made an appearance. Harry found himself becoming shy around the seemingly kind, but intimidating woman. He hadn't known it was possible to give off those two types of auras at the same time– but he assumed his lack of knowledge of such a thing just made him more of a freak.

He felt an odd urge to impress the woman, to make her proud of him. She seemed nice enough, nicer than Snape and Professor McGonagall at least. The latter wasn't as bad as she could be, of course, but the look in her eyes whenever she looked at him reminded him of how Aunt Petunia looked at him. Aunt Petunia had always looked at him with contempt, constantly acting as if his best efforts were worthless. No, his efforts weren't worthless– he was useless. Always was and always will be.

After realising he hadn't responded, he was quick to amend his mistake. "No, Professor, we haven't," Was his timid response. Suddenly he remembered Snape's presence and immediately tensed up again.

"A word, Williams– if you don't mind, that is?" The tall potions master interjected before the woman could respond and soon Harry was temporarily alone in the small office.

–––

Tempest eyed the closed door of the office for a moment before bringing her full attention towards Severus. It was an odd sight to find Severus in the same room as Potter and looking worried. Surely the man hadn't gone soft over the little whelp. Although, in the back of her mind, she acknowledged that if the man was worried there just had to be something wrong.

"The boy– Potter, he's being abused, Tempest. By his uncle, by his relatives." Severus had said it slowly, knowing that it would send Tempest's mind into a frenzy. Tempest strongly detested anyone who would dare harm a child, so it was no surprise to Severus that the woman's eyes flashed with anger after the words had been processed.

"Has the boy told you this? Or did you find a couple of harmless bruises and simply assumed so?" It took a great amount of control for the woman to push her initial anger aside.

"Finger-like bruises, he had admitted that it was his uncle. What other conclusion could I have come to?" He snapped, making his colleague's eyebrows raise slightly. She did suppose that it was a reasonable conclusion to come to, but it would do them no good to just assume. What if it wasn't the boy's relatives but another student - what if the boy was just trying to cover for said student by using his uncle as an excuse? That simply wouldn't do.

"Perhaps he was covering for, say, another student? Perhaps you should take a look at the boy's memories before taking any action. Besides, you and I both know that The ministry won't do anything about such a thing without it being a completely solid case." Tempest suggested, eyes flickering towards the closed door of the office.

Releasing a long sigh, Severus had no other choice but to agree. Tempest knew the ministry like the back of her hand, and so did he to an extent thanks to a certain Lucius Malfoy. They would need solid evidence. So with that, the investigation would begin from that evening on.

**NOTE:**

**I would like to apologize for the wait and I also would like to announce that I have a new Hetalia fanfiction in the works that is to be posted on this site and my Wattpad account (same pen name).**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	7. Announcement

Hello there!

I, after taking a bit of time away from writing this story, have decided that it is not going the way I wanted it to. There are many problems that I have come across and I think it is best to discontinue this version of the story.

That is not to say that it won't be completed of course.

I plan to rewrite this story from scratch - same plot, just written better.

Farewell until I give you all an update on the rewrite - I will announce its progress here when I get the chance and have at least half of it written.

Hoot hoot,

Owl


	8. Rewrite is Up!

Hello, I'd like to let you all know that the first chapter of the rewrite is up and ready to read!


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